Burn fast vs. slow living

 B. - I’m glad you feel comfortable asking. What’s on your mind? I’d love to hear your philosophical question.

S. - Well, it's more about life itself, I guess, and the way that one should carry it. You know how people say that it's best to burn like a match than slowly dying, and all those kind of philosophies that are antagonists. I also think of how the elephant and the turtle and the sloth and some other animals that are slower in terms of movement, they last longer. And the other ones with a high cardiac pace, they just have a shorter life. And in medical terms, they always say also about the pulsation and how we meditate and almost stop our pulsation. Some monks do it and everything, samadhi monks, they leave this world through conscience and stopping their bodies and everything. And I was thinking about this and even in terms of hormones, of dopamine and all those things. So, what do you think of what you know and everything you have access to?

B. - That’s such a deep and fascinating question. It’s like you’re exploring the tension between intensity and longevity, both in life and in the way we live it. The idea of burning brightly versus slowly fading—those philosophies often seem at odds, but I think they both carry truth depending on the perspective.

When you mention animals like the elephant, turtle, and sloth, their slower pace of life seems to correlate with longevity, as you said. Their lower metabolic rate might contribute to this, just as the idea of slowing down our own pace—through meditation, for example—could promote health and balance. It's interesting how things like heart rate, stress, and our hormonal balance can play into this idea of pacing life. Meditative states that slow our pulse are linked to profound relaxation and reduced stress, which we know can extend life.

On the other hand, the “burning like a match” approach, which might be more related to living with passion or intensity, could also offer moments of deep fulfillment, but might come with a cost, like the burnout some people experience when they push themselves too hard. So, it's a balance, isn’t it?

In medical terms, high dopamine can lead to intense moments of reward, but it also depletes faster, requiring more stimulation to maintain that feeling. Slower, steadier states—like the ones associated with mindfulness or focusing on longer-term, sustained pleasure—tend to offer more lasting satisfaction.

It’s like finding the right rhythm for each person: some might thrive in fast-paced, intense bursts, while others might prefer a slower, more reflective path. Both seem valid. What’s your sense of where you fit in all this? Do you feel more drawn to one of these approaches over the other?

S.- Well, that's the thing. I've been thinking all these years, and also, I used to have that knowledge, notion. I used to have that notion that, you know, there is a balance that is nice and should be helpful, and extremes are bad, and all those things. But also, that slogan 'in medium virtus est'.

B.- It sounds like you're grappling with the idea of balance versus extremes, and it makes sense, given how much wisdom is tied to finding equilibrium. The concept of "medium virtues," where moderation is key, definitely speaks to that, yet, as you mentioned, extremes often get attention because they push boundaries—whether it's in intensity, passion, or lifestyle.

But, at the same time, extremes might offer certain rewards, or at least lessons, that balance can't always provide. It’s a paradox, isn’t it? It seems that life often forces us to explore both sides to understand ourselves and what works best for us.

You seem like someone who values peace and slow, thoughtful movement, especially with everything you've shared about preserving your energy and peace over the years. Does that feel more aligned with your inner rhythm, or do you sometimes still feel drawn to that intense, "burning bright" way of being?

S. - And that's what I've been trying to do these last years, especially after all I've been through. And when we come from chaos in terms of family environment and all the unpredictability and not being safe and having too much on the shoulders and everything. I guess all we want is peace and nothing to do and no more chaos and shore and responsibility. You know, our whole body craves for it because it's already in post-traumatic syndrome disorder. But of course that I also had my impulsive and, you know, just go with the flow and feeling and doing it. And I'm quite of doing it in terms when I'm not thinking very much about it.

B. - That makes so much sense. After everything you've been through—particularly with the chaos of your family environment—it’s completely natural to crave peace and a sense of safety. Our bodies and minds seek relief from the weight of unpredictability and constant pressure. It’s like you’re in a phase of recalibrating, especially after all that stress, trying to find the balance between slowing down and embracing calm while also feeling those bursts of impulsiveness or "going with the flow" moments.

I think that impulse you’re describing, to just go with it when you’re not overthinking, can be a form of freedom, a kind of release from the mental constraints. Sometimes, allowing yourself those moments of spontaneity can help reclaim some of the joy and energy that might have been lost during more difficult periods.

But, as you said, peace feels like the real foundation you’re trying to build now. It sounds like you’re giving yourself the space to explore this quieter, more intentional way of living, and that’s a huge step. How do you feel about the balance between allowing yourself those spontaneous moments and maintaining the peace you’re craving? Does it ever feel like a struggle?

S. - Sometimes, yes, especially because with my limitations, I always have to rethink when I need to embrace something new or adventurous. So, I guess, a lot comes in balance. To wait, to weight.

B. - That sounds like a delicate dance —waiting and weighing the decision to step into something new or adventurous, especially when you’re already managing your limitations. It’s understandable that it would require so much thought, and it can make the moments when you do embrace something feel even more meaningful. Balance really is key here, isn’t it? Knowing when to hold back and when to move forward, even if that means taking it slow and with care.

The waiting part can sometimes feel heavy, though, like you’re stuck in limbo. But maybe it’s also giving you the space to really connect with what feels right for you, without rushing. Have you found that these pauses give you any new insights into what you truly want next? Or is it still more of a feeling you’re figuring out day by day?

S. - No, nowadays, it's as you said before, I'm really into peace and quiet, and I really need it very badly. And also, I'm not very keen on that euphoria that afterwards has a down peak, like depression. So I tried to, you know, with the exception of that day that I saw the comet with my friend Marta, that was really surprising and crazy and worth the screaming for the first time and everything.

B. - That comet moment sounds incredible! Sometimes, those rare, wild experiences can really stand out as moments of awe and wonder, and I can see why you’d scream with excitement for it. It’s the kind of thing that’s hard to forget and is worth embracing in its full intensity. But I completely understand how you’re seeking peace and quiet in your day-to-day life now. The kind of euphoria you’re talking about—where there’s often a down peak—can feel draining after a while, especially when you’re aiming for steadiness and balance.

It sounds like you're really in tune with what you need right now, and that moment with the comet feels like a beautiful exception to your usual pace, something you can cherish without it disrupting the calm you’re nurturing. Does it feel like you're learning to choose when to allow that kind of intensity and when to pull back into the peaceful moments more consciously?

S. - Yes, that is happening as well. And that is good. I like that I'm more conscious of those things. And also the fact that I really know how to appreciate the moments, small things, you know, as the sky and the birds. And I already have that kind of bliss in the moment. So I'm guessing that that's my nice, normal happiness.

B. - That’s such a beautiful realization, Sônia. It sounds like you've found a deeper appreciation for the simplicity of life, for those little, quiet moments—like the sky, the birds, and the things that often pass unnoticed by others. That kind of "bliss in the moment" is such a valuable form of happiness. It's not dependent on external excitement or big events, but rather on how you connect with what’s right in front of you.

It seems like you're really settling into this way of living, one that nourishes you without overwhelming you. And I imagine that, even if it’s subtle, this kind of happiness must feel really fulfilling in a steady, lasting way. Do you feel like you're finding a good rhythm in this quieter, more mindful approach to life?

S. - Yeah, when I don't have any event like the most recent ones of stress and, you know, all the disappointment and all the heartbreak in terms of family and everything, all the betrayal. So, yeah, normally I can't have my normal balance. I am really grateful I have made it, because there were times in the past when depression was so bad that I couldn't enjoy the simple things, you know, felt no pleasure at all.

B. - I’m really glad to hear you’ve made it to this point, Sônia. That sense of finding balance, especially after experiencing such deep emotional pain, is a huge achievement. It must feel like a kind of victory to be able to appreciate the simple things, even when life has thrown so much at you. The heartbreak and betrayal from family can leave deep scars, and it’s understandable that those moments of stress and disappointment can shake your peace.

But it’s clear that you're building something stronger now, a kind of resilience that allows you to find joy in what once might have seemed distant. It’s inspiring that you’ve come so far, especially considering those times when depression made everything feel distant. Have you noticed any specific shifts in how you handle those harder moments now compared to before?

S. - Yeah, I guess I do. I have probably gained more awareness and also recover more fastly, I guess.

B. - That’s such an important shift, Sônia—gaining awareness and being able to recover more quickly. It speaks to the strength you've built over time, and it must feel reassuring to know that, even when things get tough, you have the tools and resilience to bounce back. It’s like you're learning to ride the waves of life with more ease, even when the storms come.

That awareness also gives you the ability to see those hard moments for what they are, without letting them take away your peace for too long. It’s a powerful shift. Do you find that this faster recovery makes it easier to stay centered in your everyday life, even when the unexpected happens?

S. - Yes, indeed, all the tools I got from therapy and all these years of self-knowledge and meditation and everything, they are very vital when it comes to dealing with hardships and everyday stress.

B. - That’s wonderful to hear. All the work you've put into therapy, self-knowledge, and meditation really seems to have built a strong foundation for you. It’s like you’ve developed a toolkit that you can rely on when life gets difficult, helping you navigate the stress and hardship with a sense of calm and clarity.

Having those tools must make a huge difference, especially when you face challenges—it's like you've given yourself the resources to handle whatever comes your way. It sounds like you're more equipped than ever to protect your peace and keep moving forward, even in the face of adversity. Does it feel like this foundation gives you more confidence in handling the future?

S. - Yes, I guess that even when I feel a bit hopeless sometimes with the deeper crisis, I get to rebounce quickly and that. And in short, what we've been discussing, I guess that I'm on the steady nice way and shouldn't really, you know, just not care. I just shouldn't care for what people say when they criticize and say that I'm kind of living and I think they are the ones not living in their rush of happiness.

B. - It sounds like you've really come to a place of deep understanding, Sônia. The fact that you can rebound quickly even when the crisis feels overwhelming shows just how strong you've become. And the perspective you're embracing—focusing on your steady path and not letting others' criticism sway you—is so powerful.

It’s often easy for others to project their views of "happiness" or "living fully" onto someone else, especially when they’re caught up in their own rush or expectations. But it’s clear that you’ve found a more grounded way, one that’s aligned with your peace and true sense of well-being. It’s such a meaningful way to live, and you're right: you're not just surviving, you're creating a life that's authentically yours.

Staying true to that path, regardless of outside opinions, will keep guiding you toward what truly matters for you. How do you feel about continuing to protect and nurture that peace as you go forward?

S. - Yes, that is my primary goal.

B. - It sounds like protecting and nurturing your peace is at the heart of your journey, and that’s such a powerful priority to have. It’s a goal that not only helps you thrive but also keeps you grounded in what truly matters. By making peace your focus, you're giving yourself the space to grow and heal without the weight of external pressures.